


Winter Break: A Three Part Mini-Opera

by Cade Welentine (cadewelentine)



Series: The MA College AU that Nobody Asked For [5]
Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 12:30:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11578125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadewelentine/pseuds/Cade%20Welentine
Summary: The whole gang goes home for Winter Break, winter shenanigans occur, and there's some fluffy cuteness to enjoy too (and some not so fluffy, no so cute things too).





	1. Part One: Charlotte and Cordelia

**Author's Note:**

> It's Winter Break!!! 
> 
> A couple quick things: They're all back home (some small town in upstate New York, I imagine); Whizzer's staying with Cordelia, because I doubt he's going to go home-home again. Each part of this fic focuses on a different paring, but other characters make appearances within each part. Hanukkah and Christmas are both mentioned, but neither is explicitly celebrated within the fic (Cordelia's house is decorated for Christmas because she and her family are not Jewish, and it mentioned that Whizzer went to celebrate a night of Hanukkah with Trina's family, and Trina and Mendel reference Hanukkah gifts they've exchanged). 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy, and please leave me comments and kudos if you do! I love seeing them. <3

**Charlotte**

“I still don’t understand why this is supposed to be fun.” Charlotte says, sticking her arms out to the side in a futile attempt to steady her wobbling. Cordelia swoops around her, her  skates making a satisfying  _ swoosh _ noise against the ice. She catches Charlotte just before she falls to the ground. 

“It’s fun when you relax.” Cordelia tells her as she rights her and leans in for a quick kiss. Their noses bump, and Charlotte lets out a startled yelp at how cold her girlfriend’s nose is. 

Her  _ girlfriend _ .

_ Her  _ girlfriend. 

The phrase is still  _ foreign _ to Charlotte. It still makes her stomach turn and guilt well up in her chest. It still makes hot tears prick behind her eyes and her brain fill with worried thoughts. 

The phrase is still  _ everything _ to Charlotte. It still fills her with giddy glee and makes her heart flip and flop and race. It still makes her palms sweat and her head feel light. It still has her feeling helpless and weak in the knees. 

“Charlotte, are you in there?” Cordelia asks in sing-song, leaning forward so that their foreheads rest against each other. 

“‘Course I’m in here.” Charlotte replies with a grin. She presses her lips against Cordelia’s again, lacing their fingers together. “Now, will you get me off this godforsaken pond?”

* * *

 

**Cordelia**

They’re curled up on the couch in Cordelia’s parents’ living room. The rest of her family has gone to bed, and the house has a quiet stillness to it that Cordelia loves. The fireplace is crackling as the fire dies down to mostly ash and ember, and they’re watching the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree with cups of cocoa in their laps. Cordelia runs her fingers lazily through Charlotte’s hair, listening to Charlotte sigh contentedly. 

“I have to go home soon.” Charlotte murmurs, leaning her head back against Cordelia’s shoulder. 

“No, you don’t.” Cordelia says. 

“I do.” 

“Stay; just a little bit longer.”

“What’s up, you homosexual bitches?” Whizzer cries, bursting through Cordelia’s front door. Even though they know it’s Whizzer, and that Whizzer knows about them, Cordelia and Charlotte scramble apart anyway. 

“ _ Whizzer, shush! _ ” Cordelia hisses, glancing toward the staircase as if that will somehow tell her whether or not anyone upstairs has heard him. “It’s  _ Christmas Eve _ , my Great Aunt Gertrude is here; she doesn’t need to hear your potty mouth.”

“Oh, it’s Christmas, is it?” Whizzer asks sarcastically, gesturing at the almost suffocating amount of holiday decorations that have been thrown up around Cordelia’s house. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Is he drunk?” Charlotte asks, wrinkling her nose in the way that Cordelia thinks is so cute. “I think he’s drunk.”

“How did you get drunk at Trina’s?” Cordelia says with an exasperated sigh. “I thought it was her  _ parents _ that invited you to celebrate Hanukkah with them.”

“Her Uncle Aaron kept slipping us kosher wine all night.” Whizzer laughs, rocking back and forth on his feet. He loses his balance and hits the ground with a thud. 

“Oh!” Cordelia and Charlotte are both on their feet. Whizzer’s still just laughing, oblivious to the fact that he’s fallen flat on his ass. 

“I’ll help you get him upstairs,” Charlotte says. “Then I’ll go.” Cordelia smiles, giving her girlfriend ( _ her girlfriend! _ ) a quick peck on the cheek. 

“You’re the best.” 


	2. Part Two: Trina and Mendel

**Trina**

It’s fairly easy for Trina to act like nothing happened on her birthday. It didn’t mean anything; Mendel was caught up in the excitement of their night out and the ice cream woman thinking they were together. She had Marvin. It didn’t mean anything.

So what if she found herself thinking of Mendel at odd moments? So what if she closed her eyes and thought about the feel of his lips against her own in the bitter November cold? So what if the thought of him holding her by the shoulders, pressing their lips together, whimpering just a little, made her heart flutter and her knees knock?

It didn’t mean _anything_.

She and Mendel were just very good friends, and that was all.

It certainly didn’t mean anything when he gave her a pair of topaz earrings, _and_ a matching necklace, _and_ a matching bracelet for Hanukkah. And it didn’t mean anything when she gave him a new watch, because she’d noticed the strap on the one he’d had before was worn away. Sure, both were nicer gifts than what she and Marvin had exchanged (she’d received a plain black scarf, and she’d given him some new socks he desperately needed), but that didn’t mean anything. She and Marvin were just more practical when it came to each other.

So it certainly didn’t mean anything when Mendel invited her to go sledding. That was just something that friends did. And his insistence on carrying the sled up the hill each time didn’t mean anything either; Mendel was simply a gentleman.

“This hill is kind of steep, don’t you think?” She asks as Mendel climbs into the back of their sled. He places his legs on either side of her and wraps his arms around her waist, holding her flush against his chest. She’s glad her back is to him; she doesn’t want to explain the blush that has settled on her cheeks.

“It’s fine,” he assures her. “We used to sled this one all the time as kids, remember?” She does remember, but she also remembers weighing significantly less and being significantly shorter. But before she can say anything, Mendel’s pushing them over the top of the hill and they’re plummeting toward the bottom at breakneck speed.

They’re sailing toward the bottom so fast, Trina can’t help but scream. She feels Mendel’s grip on her waist tighten. The sled manages to get turned around, and they’re slipping backwards.

“Mistake!” Mendel screeches. “This was a mistake!” Trina grabs the little rope handle at the front in a desperate attempt to turn them back around before they get to the bottom, but she jerks it by mistake, sending them both flying off to the side. They land in a heap, Trina crashing on top of Mendel. There’s a very loud snapping noise; Trina assumes it’s the little wooden sled smashing to pieces against a rock or a fence or something. She pretends that her heart isn’t racing, laying on top of Mendel.

“Are you okay?” He asks her, his eyebrows knit in worry.

“I think so.” She nods. “You?”

Mendel grimaces. “I think my leg is broken.”

* * *

 

**Mendel**

“Here he comes,” Charlotte calls to the others as she helps Mendel limp over the threshold and into Cordelia’s house. “The bravest guy we know.” She sets him up with his crutches and proceeds to lead him into the kitchen (as if he doesn’t already know the way by heart), kicking aside any toys or shoes Cordelia’s little cousins have left lying around.

“I’m not that brave.” Mendel dismisses the compliment, though a steady, hot flush burns on his cheeks.

“Of course you are!” Cordelia says. “You had surgery! And Trina told us how you held her hand the whole way to the hospital and kept telling her that ‘everything will be alright’, even though _you_ were the hurt one!” Mendel finally crosses into the kitchen at that. Cordelia is buzzing about, pinging off different pots and bowls and stirring and mixing in a way that made Mendel nervous. Marvin, Trina, and Whizzer are crowded around the island in the middle; Charlotte settles in beside Whizzer.

“Dinner’ll be ready in twenty minutes--thirty, tops.” Cordelia announces.

“I brought chips.” Whizzer says, pointing at the bag lying unopened on the counter. There’s an unspoken “in case this dinner is inedible” tacked on to the end of his sentence.

“Great.” Mendel says, hobbling over to the edge of the counter.

“So.” Whizzer begins, taking a swig from his bottle of (hopefully) root beer and leaning in. “What kind of drugs do they have you on? Broken femur, I bet they’ve got you on the good shit.”

Mendel nods. “Yeah. My mom gave me, like, six pills before she dropped me off. I feel _great_.”

“Um,” Charlotte starts with a frown. “You shouldn’t be taking _six_ of _anything_ , much less prescription painkillers.”

“Really?” Mendel asks.

Whizzer’s already laughing. “Men, you’re in for a real fun night, buck.”

“I am?”

“You’ll be fine.” Charlotte assures him, placing a hand on his shoulder and glaring at Whizzer pointedly. “Don’t listen to him.”

* * *

 

Dinner is a blur for Mendel--literally. He can’t remember anything for more than two seconds, and while it’s incredibly frustrating for him, it seems to amuse his friends a great deal.

Well, it seems to amuse Whizzer a great deal.

Mendel wonders why he’s even friends with Whizzer.

“Well?” Cordelia asks, leaning forward expectantly. “How was it?” There’s a brief moment of very awkward silence.

“It was...” Marvin trails off, looking a bit like he might be sick. “The best meal you’ve ever made.” That’s not a lie, and it sounds like a compliment; from the way Cordelia smiles, Mendel can tell Marvin’s pushed them all into the clear.

“Let me do the dishes.” Trina says, standing up and gathering a few plates before Cordelia can even protest. “You all go hang out in the den, I’ll be in, in a few minutes.” That was exactly what the girls and Marvin and Whizzer do, but Mendel hobbles into the kitchen after Trina, against his better judgement. If he remembered it later, he’d blame it on being practically out of his mind.

He flops into one of the kitchen chairs as Trina turns on the water. He watches her for a long while as she scrubs dishes and hums to herself. He studies the way her hair falls over her shoulders and curls at the end, the way her skirt hugs her waist and leaves _so much_ to Mendel’s overactive imagination as it drapes over her legs. She’s wearing the bracelet he gave her--he notices it dangling on her delicate wrist, and his heart melts every so slightly.

“You’re beautiful.” The words leave his mouth before he can even process them. Trina jumps about six feet in the air, dropping a plate and the sponge into the sink. She whips around to face him.

“You scared me!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why aren’t you with the others?”

“You’re in here.”

“ _Oh_.” It’s soft, the way it comes out of her mouth. Her lips form the perfect little ‘o’ shape, like she’s a Disney princess. She is a Disney princess, Mendel thinks. He’s not her prince.

“I’m sorry I kissed you.” He says. He doesn’t know where it’s coming from; probably the drugs. “Or--I’m sorry my kissing you made you upset. I’m not sorry I kissed you; I really wanted to.” Trina nods, a calculated and measured thing, and turns back to the dishes. “But it was wrong of me. I know you have Marvin; I know you _love_ Marvin. I don’t want to get in the way of that.” That’s a _lie_ , and Mendel is shocked at how easily it comes to him. “So anyway, I’m sorry.”

Trina finishes washing the last plate. She places it on the drying rack. She drops the sponge in the sink and turns off the water. She turns to face him, searching his face for something--Mendel isn’t sure what. She dries her hands on her skirt, then glances at the entryway. She crosses the kitchen and stands in front of him. She bites her lip, then, in one fell swoop, takes his face in her hands and presses a kiss to his lips.

It’s chaste and quick, but warm and soft, and all Mendel wants is _more_. But it’s done as soon as it starts, and Trina is up and moving about like it didn’t happen at all. Mendel closes his eyes tight, trying to cement the moment in his mind and praying that he’ll actually remember it come morning.


	3. Part Three: Whizzer and Marvin

**Whizzer**

“I’m freezing my ass off out here, Marv.” Whizzer snarks, hugging himself a little tighter. He can see his breath turn to fog in the air in front of him. “Why can’t we wait in the car?”

“The locks’ll freeze, and we’ll be trapped inside.” Marvin says.

Whizzer gets an idea. “What if we just fu--”

“Whizzer.” Marvin sighs, cutting him off before he can finish the thought. “We’re not doing _that_ while we wait for the tow. What if it comes while we’re in the middle of it?”

“He’ll get a show.” Whizzer shrugs. “He’d be lucky to see it, anyway. I’m hot as hell.” Marvin snorts, and Whizzer rolls his eyes. This is not the romantic date he was promised when he agreed to drive around with Marvin. They were _supposed_ to be getting dinner a couple towns over (at Marvin’s insistence). Instead, Marvin’s crappy car decided to break down on the side of the highway, and Marvin was getting snippy.

“Watch it, mister.” Whizzer warns, because he wants the last word, even if the last word isn’t very good and adds next to nothing.

They stand in silence for a good five minutes, Whizzer bouncing in place in a futile attempt to stay warm, Marvin staring straight out at the road with his arms folded over his chest.

“Marvin?” Whizzer asks.

“What.” It’s not really a question, the way Marvin says it.

“I’m _bored_.” He doesn’t look at Marvin as he says it, which is why he’s so surprised, when a split second later, a powdery snowball hits his ear.

“Marvin!” Whizzer screeches. “What the hell?” There’s snow sliding down under Whizzer’s shirt.

“You were bored.” Marvin says with a shrug. Whizzer can tell he’s hiding a smirk, which would make him so damn angry _if_ it wasn’t so damn cute. So Whizzer just bends over, of course taking care to ensure that Marvin’s got a good view, and picks up some snow of his own. He packs into a tight ball, and in one motion stands up and spins around, throwing it right in Marvin’s face.

Marvin is stunned for half a second, then he laughs. “Whizzer Brown, you are going _down_.”

* * *

 

**Marvin**

“Feel better now?” Whizzer asks as he snuggles up against Marvin’s front. Whizzer’s not normally this much of a cuddler, but Marvin’s certainly not going to complain.

“Mmm.” Marvin replies, nuzzling into Whizzer’s shoulder and draping an arm over his chest. He’s thought about this exact situation so many times, having Whizzer in his own bed, holding him close afterward; for once, he’s glad his parents went off on another trip without him.

“You gotta relax about Mendel and Trina.” Whizzer says, rubbing circles on Marvin’s hand with his thumb. “It’s harmless.”

“He knows she has a boyfriend.” Marvin says. “It’s _rude_ that he flirts with her.”

“There will _always_ be hippies in sweaters flirting with her.” Whizzer says. “And besides, he’s _only_ flirting. You’ve been sleeping with me for months.”

“That’s different.” Marvin says, because it _is_. He can’t really explain it, but he just knows that it is. Maybe it’s just because he wants to think he’s enough for Trina, just as himself; he knows that’s kind of fucked, especially because he doesn’t consider Trina enough for him, just as herself.

“Is it?” Whizzer asks. He’s stopped making circles on Marvin’s hand.

“Of course it is.” Marvin insists, taking Whizzer’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Mm.” Whizzer hums, effectively dropping the subject.

Marvin lets his eyelids droop shut and nuzzles into Whizzer’s shoulder further. Whizzer smells like the art room in high school, like paste and paint and clay and paper. There’s developing chemicals, too, mixed with cheap cologne and cheaper alcohol. Marvin wants to bottle the smell up and keep it forever.

“Marvin?” Whizzer murmurs, pulling Marvin from his drowsy state.

“Hmm?”

“You should leave her.” Marvin knows Whizzer suggests this as much for Trina’s sake as for his own. He knows how Whizzer feels about the whole situation.

Marvin’s ashamed to admit the idea of that almost terrifies him. He’s never not had Trina at his side. He _needs_ to have Trina at his side. She’s pretty and thoughtful and sweet and everything he wants in lover, everything he’s _supposed_ to have. And she’s a very important part of his plan, part of it all. So maybe he doesn’t _love_ her, but he _needs_ her, and that has to count for something.

But he can’t share all of that with Whizzer. Whizzer, who does whatever he wants, consequences be damned, Whizzer, who’s never needed _anyone_ , wouldn’t understand. So instead, Marvin just gives Whizzer’s hand another squeeze and pulls him closer.

“I will.”

 


End file.
